


The Warmth From Winter

by RubixaSeraph



Series: DMC Community Projects [6]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dadte, Dante being a good dad, Family Bonding, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Vergil needs guidance, family reminiscence, is that even a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubixaSeraph/pseuds/RubixaSeraph
Summary: “Don’t be difficult. Yes. Because you’re my brother. And I would give the best that I can offer to my kids, okay? And if the best for Snow’s sword training would come from you, then I’d want that for her. For you, even. Imagine, if this entire mess didn’t turn out the way it did. I’m sure you would have wanted to teach Nero how to use the Yamato, wouldn’t you? Could have taught them together. Besides, I wouldn’t have let you refuse.”“I see… So, I presume you would not be allowing me to refuse this request, either?”“Damn right I won’t let you. Snow’s also pretty close to Nero, you know. He’s her favorite cousin. Get on my Snowflake’s good side, and she’ll be happy to help you with Nero.”Dante has a family.Vergil didn’t think this family could still include him.His niece decided a good icebreaker was going to be something the Kin of Sparda does best: to cross blades.For DMC Week 2020, Day 6: Home | Family | Belonging
Relationships: Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Dante/Original Character(s), Vergil (Devil May Cry) & Original Character(s)
Series: DMC Community Projects [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953397
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	The Warmth From Winter

**Author's Note:**

> \- Set after my [Children are a Blessing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504847) AU, post DMC5.  
> \- The basics you need to know is that some time after the Temem-ni-Gru, Dante finds out from Kassandra (OC) that she’s pregnant. She moves in with him and throughout the years they raise a family.  
> \- The events of each game plus the anime mostly still happens.  
> \- When they found Nero for the events of DMC4, Dante and his family actually went to meet him again to give him a bit of explanation, though the only thing Dante explained was “You’re my nephew, your dad is dead. I’m sorry.”  
> \- Have I mentioned yet that Dante has three kids? Snow, Tony and Caesar.  
> \- And Dante was pissed at Vergil for having left Nero in Fortuna.  
> \- Author’s note: I treat the Sparda family with a great degree of “a case of the children of gods.” They aren’t perfect, and when they mess up, things can get pretty bad for the mortal realm. This is fantasy and nice things for the writer and reader. That’s all I have to say.

Vergil never thought that living with Dante again would actually include rules. 

And these rules aren’t inane rules either. 

The idea of Dante and following rules did not mesh well in the impression Vergil had of them from when they were kids, or from when they were young adults. 

Dishes need to go in the sink at the very least after they were used. Trash is not allowed to stay piled up at the end of the day, and needs to go into the trash can before bed. Weapons need to be stowed away and never used inside the house, save for emergencies, though there seems to be an exception for the front office area, where Dante blatantly kept a weapons display. 

It stood to reason that it was for the image of the storefront. After all, this was a devil hunting agency. Though it appeared that Dante did more of his fair share of odd jobs to pay for bills and life expenses, too. 

There was a smattering of other other rules that Kassandra had rambled off, such as no throwing things in the house, no purposeful ice making in the house (that must have been directed at Snow,) no leaving the alcohol out unattended, (was that at Dante?) no leaving guns out and about (that was probably at both Dante and Snow,) no leaving exacto knives or plastic crafting parts lying around (especially on the floor, apparently.)

And Dante’s wife was a curious woman, and of the rare sort, too. Devil’s blood also ran through her veins, though in a lesser amount than the half-devils that Vergil and Dante were. She wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of Vergil’s temperament, but neither was she brash like Lady, or even the slightest bit taunting like Trish. 

Instead, Kassy was every bit a homely housewife, with a gentle and doting touch. When he and Dante had first come back from Hell, despite how they were desperately in need of a shower, Kassy immediately embraced Dante with no reservation. 

But when she turned to Vergil, where he was expecting contempt from her, he was received by a different demeanor: a woman of regal upbringing. 

She greeted him with grace, an unspoken gesture that she acknowledged his power, but the stipulation was clear: he was a distinguished guest, and thus still had to abide by the rules of a guest. 

Dante had called her “Queenie.” A nickname that probably held bearing. 

In this home, this office of Devil May Cry, Kassy held dominion. And it did painfully remind Vergil of some of his childhood, but in a good way. 

Eva was like that. Motherly, angelic, but stern where she needed to be. Perhaps their father was also just a legendary sap, too, since he would never go against her word. And in a way, it was his example that was set for the boys, who also knew better to go against their mother. 

So, Vergil was careful to respect Kassy’s hospitality, but he also tried to avoid the residents of the building for the first night. After his shower, he was ushered into the bedroom that apparently belonged to Snow, who was out on a job with Nicoletta and Nero, he spent one night awkwardly trying to figure out what he was going to do next. 

Despite being in unfamiliar territory, and technically being in the domain of someone else, fatigue won over his demonic anxiety, and he fell asleep. The next morning, he woke early to the familiar sound of Nicoletta honking the horn of the RV. He hid away in the bedroom, and waited until the RV had left. 

Snow eventually knocked on the door to the bedroom that was rightfully hers, even though she apparently only came back to the office once or twice a month. “Uncle Vergil? Mother will be making breakfast soon, if you would like some in a bit. We’ll be down in the kitchen, okay?” And without waiting for a response, she left. 

Awkwardly, he felt obligated to head downstairs eventually. And took a serving of pancakes. A very typical breakfast, but he hadn’t had pancakes in years. Snow didn’t seem to care that the atmosphere was a little awkward, as she went on to tell Vergil that she planned on clearing out the rest of her room so that he could stay.

Her younger brothers, Tony and Caesar, were wary of him. 

Dante didn’t make his presence known until later, after Snow had left to do some sort of shopping with her mother. And in the front office, the twins had a conversation that Vergil wasn’t expecting to end smoothly. 

In Hell, they had done a lot of fighting. Dante surprisingly didn’t ask too many questions, and spent more time gauging Vergil’s reactions and state of being instead. There were still quips that got under Vergil’s skin, but a Dante that was actually trying to observe and pick the right time to speak was foreign to Vergil.

And the only conclusion Vergil could reach, regarding what could have brought on this kind of change in Dante, would be the years his younger brother had spent raising a family. 

Patience wasn’t in Dante’s nature. But he learnt a certain amount of patience in order to raise three kids. And it also lent some weight to Dante’s demands and warnings. 

Vergil couldn't fathom why Snow would ask to get to know him so readily. 

But Dante had told him he wasn’t allowed to refuse “his Snowflake’s demands.” And at this point, after losing to Nero and being proven by recent events that he had a lot in his life that he needed to re-evaluate, he knew he had to go along with this. 

Perhaps he should be relieved that Snow asked for a sword fight, instead of some manner of talk over tea. 

So, deciding it was his obligation to face the music, he promised Dante that he would seek her out on the next day. 

When he came down the stairs, the rest of the house was quiet. Snow (who spent the night on the office couch) was sitting on the couch of the front office, playing with some manner of electronic that Vergil had come to learn was a video game system. She was, however, dressed ready for an outing. The white coat with amber cloud patterns on the sleeves and coattails was familiar from when he knew her as V. She had a different outfit on underneath this time; a red qipao instead of a T-shirt and jeans that she apparently threw on in a hurry to head out against the Qliphoth matter. 

The white hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and her blue eyes focused on the video game screen, were all things he had observed before as V. For first impressions, Snow had perfect posture even when gaming, and looked every bit the role of a princess. But Vergil knew better from his singular day of getting to know her as V.

Once her fire is lit, her excited mannerisms are often an echo of the Dante that Vergil had known in their younger years.

Snow stopped what she was doing when she noticed him at the bottom of the stairs, and smiled silently as she stowed away her system and beckoned for him to follow her out the door. 

“Whole family of night owls, but I can stand to wake up early now and then. Had to adjust to that because Nero is an early riser, sometimes even at the crack of dawn.” She explained as she hopped into the driver’s seat of a red convertible without even opening the door. “Dad said we could borrow the car today. I don’t think you’d very much like to ride on the back of my motorcycle.”He had recalled seeing the red convertible parked near this building when he visited as V. He should have realized this bright red vehicle belonged to his brother. It was so very _Dante_. But he had to admit, some things in their upbringing still carried over into their adulthood. Red it may be, the convertible was fairly classy. 

Politely, he opened the door to the passenger side to seat himself into the car. “You have a destination in mind?”

“Probably any outskirts of the city would do. But we should grab breakfast first? There’s not a lot open at the moment, but there is one bakery I know of that’s been rebuilt now!”

Having spent most of his life subsiding off of red orbs, the literal blood of his enemies, he immediately responded: “I do not require it.”

And though she kept her eyes on the road, she made a face, and said: “So dad says, that half-devils won’t starve to death that easily. But he also said that having an empty stomach sucks, too. So you’re not going hungry on my watch!”

Kassandra had said a similar thing about no one going hungry under her roof, the night before, to wrest Vergil downstairs for dinner. He supposed that attitude was passed from mother to daughter, and so he gave up protesting. 

It didn’t take long to arrive at the bakery. With a quick in and out trip, Snow came back with a bag full of different pastries, along with a plastic bag full of drinks. “Help yourself!” She handed him the bags, chomped down on the cheese danish she was already holding, and started up the car. 

He wasn’t feeling particularly picky about what pastry he ate, as he was only looking to eat one to appease her, but the apple tart was surprisingly good, so he dug out a second one. But it did leave him thirsty. When he reached into the other bag for a bottle of water, he noticed two cans of something familiar. 

Energy drinks. The same kind Nico kept stocked in the RV. As V, he had actually partaken in a few cans of it. In hindsight, it probably didn’t do his human-nerves a lot of good. 

“Oh, yeah! So, I noticed Nicoletta shared some of my energy drink stock with you. Well, with V. And I thought I was the only crazy one to occasionally knock back four of those in the span of a day. Nero won’t touch that stuff. If you actually like them, feel free to have at ‘em.”

It was a gesture, then, of goodwill. 

At the time as V, the shock and taste of the energy drink was something he barely registered. The “energy in a can” was somewhat of a false comfort to keep him awake and going, though in part he thinks the buzzing that was in his blood might have been a complete overdose. Nicoletta had said something to him on his fourth can to “not have a heart attack, V-Man.”

But he cracked open this can, too, and took a drink from it. 

The taste was still acidic. And he’s not sure if it’s because he had one too many as V, or if he’s finally gone crazy. But he _liked_ it. 

So he told Snow: “Luckily for us, we wouldn’t need to worry about something as inconvenient as a heart attack from partaking in more than the usual amount of these.”

She laughed. “Heavens… calling a heart attack an inconvenience… it’s like one of those memes on the internet. Which you probably won’t understand right now… remind me to show you how to use a smartphone and the computer in the future. You’ll be a force to be reckoned with once you understand the power of the internet.” She then made an undignified huff. “Or maybe I shouldn’t. Nero might kill me if I taught you that stuff.”

With half of what she was saying making little sense to him, Vergil could only glance over in mild confusion. Something about her sarcastic tone was also full of irony. “You have me intrigued on this power of the internet you speak of.” He wanted to understand what she found so amusing. 

“Knowledge is power, right? Let’s just say for now that, the knowledge of the masses is stored on the internet. But not everything on the internet is good…”

“Ah, much like how the books of the occult are better off left out of the hands of morons?”

“Pft!” This time, Snow tried and failed to suppress her laughter, which burst forth from her in the end. “That’s probably the best and worst comparison I’ve ever heard! It’s more than that, though. But I can explain that another day.”

“Then I do have a question for you, Snow.”

She made an affirmative sound as the landscape about them opened up to more of the outskirts. 

“Why are you being so amiable about interacting with me?”

Something in the way her gaze momentarily darkened reminded him instantly of Dante. And every familiar trait he finds in her makes his heart ache in a way that he wished would stop. This feeling, this longing, this… envy that he had, from the moment he realized as V that Dante had what Vergil thought he could never have… that his little brother was able to have family while Vergil himself blindly threw all of his chances away…

“Why don’t you tell me first why you think you don’t deserve my amicable attention.” She asked back.

“I can start with the fact that I have tried to fight to the death with your father several times. And there’s also the matter of Nero’s arm…”

“And what are your feelings on that matter?”

The question irked him. He did not want to deeply consider his feelings on the matter, and didn’t like the idea of sharing something like that with her. 

After all, they were acquaintances at best, blood relation or not. 

And towards his silence, Snow sighed. “Now probably is not the time for me to ask such questions, I suppose. But at least I know that you care in some way, to bring those events up as your answer. Your question isn’t really about why I’m wanting to spend time with you, but more like… why does it seem like I’m willing to forgive you, isn’t it?”

“...So maybe you are more perceptive than I take you for.”

“That’s not a compliment, and I can tell. Why does everyone seem to work with the modus operandi that my family members and I are blind or something? Okay, I know dad can be a bit too blase and oblivious to certain things, but…”

“Apologies. While it wasn’t a compliment, I didn’t mean to insult you, either.” He cut her off dryly. 

“I kind of figured…” She shrugged. “Well, as for the question of why… sometimes, morality simply can’t apply to us the same way. The lesser of evils does not mean it’s the most painless route. And desperation is a double edged sword. One thing does not change, however: you are kin. You are very important kin, among a family who needs to be able to keep each other close in order to feel accepted. And more importantly…

“I’ve seen it. How much it hurt dad when he had to tell Nero that you were dead. Before we found Nero, I think only mom knew about you. Tony and Caesar and I never had a clue about your existence, or what you went through. After this whole Qliphoth incident, someone had to explain. The secondhand accounts all seem to be missing something… but it’s only been a few days since you two got back. I haven’t even found the right moment yet to ask dad for his side of the story… and it’s probably too early to ask you, too.”

As she explained, it seemed they were nearing the destination she had in mind, too, as she carefully maneuvered the car offroad, taking care to not damage the car as she found a good clearing. 

“And, as an older sister to younger twin brothers, I had a lot to think about during the months you and dad were gone.”

She cut the engine, and Vergil felt like there was too much silence now, save for the gentle breeze that came in in place of the wind that had been rushing by during the drive. Snow didn’t seem to mind the silence, however, as she remained in the driver’s seat, gazing down at her hands with the keys in one of her palms. 

“I never liked it when family fought against each other. And believe me, it happens. Not often, but it does happen. My mom’s side of the family even has some terribly heartbreaking stories from their family history about it. And even in the present, there was one time where family had fought, and it took for other family members to knock some sense into them. What Nero did to knock some sense into you and dad… that wasn’t anything new, though it was relieving.

“So, it begs the question: for a family like us, who cannot deny the call of our devil’s blood when the going gets tough, what other options do we have, than to do whatever we can to remind each other that we will be there for each other? 

“That is my answer to you, Uncle Vergil. My love for my family is unconditional. I have never experienced it for myself, but I hope to never experience the pain of losing family to tragic bullshit.” 

So far, Snow has proven an extensive vocabulary and careful word choices. But it appeared that “careful word choices” will still include choice words like “bullshit.” 

Vergil didn’t really know how to best respond to that. Despite everything that had happened, she was giving him everything he had wanted since his life went up in flames. Love. Acceptance. Family. And in her own way, she was promising him safety.

But feelings and how to manage said feelings did not come easy to him. So he deflected and changed the topic: “Is this where you would like to test your sword skills?”

She didn’t get upset at him for changing the topic. Instead, she smiled and said: “Seems as good of a place as any, right?” With that, she jumped out of the car. Again, by going over the door instead of opening it.

In this clearing, devoid of any hellish backdrop, Vergil suddenly had a memory surface in his mind. 

Across from him, Snow seemed eager and ready to get some good sparring in, and he suddenly thought of Dante. 

When they were younger, Dante often wanted to ask him to play. But by play, he always meant fighting. 

Vergil took his sword training seriously, but otherwise, he didn’t like fighting unless he had a reason to. But more often than not, his reason became “because Dante goaded him into it.”

But then everything went up in flames, and Vergil’s reason to fight became the need for survival and power. 

Yet, on some levels, Dante’s reason to fight hasn’t changed. Though it was clear that Dante enjoyed combat, his reason to fight had always been Vergil. He wanted Vergil’s attention. Wanted him to play with him. Wanted him to enjoy the same things with him, when Vergil wanted nothing more than to enjoy his own things in peace. 

And then, Vergil gave him worse reasons to fight. Against him, instead of with him. 

Decades later, he now realized that he might have been just as selfish as Dante had been. Dante wanted to play. Vergil wanted to read and enjoy music and tea. Neither of them wanted to give up what they wanted at that moment, until Dante took what he wanted by force. 

Perhaps their entire interaction, and the impression that they must always fight, was just one big childish misunderstanding that they never had the chance to iron out. Something from when they were children that festered into their adulthood. 

But here was Snow. Dante’s daughter. Bright as sunlight reflected off of the ice and snow in the woods. The warmth in peaceful winters. 

And she wanted to play. 

Vergil knew better now how to handle this. He should humor her better than what he did to Nero. (“Next time, I won’t lose.” He had said to him. They will have a rematch. But he resolved to approach it better.)

“Well then. Let us see what you can do.”

It was a bit of a moot statement, coming from him. As V, he had seen how she fought beside Nero a few times. He knew that she had a tail she kept hidden by wrapping it about her waist, disguised as a belt or sash. He already knew that her katana, which was apparently a gift from her mother’s side of the family, was often stowed away as the snowflake hairpin in her hair. And she also had on her possession a sword named Alastor, and the Devil Arm Cerberus. (“Pretty, neat, huh? Dad gave them to me when I said I was going to live with Nero and Kyrie and hunt demons with him! He tried to give Nero new weapons, too, but he declined. Said Red Queen and Yamato were enough for him.” Snow had once told V, when she misunderstood the expression he had upon seeing the Cerberus in her hands.)

He had already seen that, like Dante, she used a pair of handguns. Nicoletta had rambled about its makings for a good while, eager to show off the work that she hoped would live up to the very handguns her grandmother made for Dante. 

Thinking back on it now, perhaps Vergil should give Nico more credit than he did before. That girl willingly lived among the dangers of demons and devils just to further her craft. 

That was an admirable kind of power, too. 

But on the topic of Snow, he was careful to start in the defensive. 

Her moves were crisp, and she had good form with her katana. After feeling like he had parried enough of her attacks, he took a stance to attack, and as expected, she was observant enough to read his basic movements. 

He had never done this before. Every fight he had with Dante, from even when they were kids, their goal was to beat each other until one would submit. But he made a promise to Dante; a promise in general to be better. He had to be careful to not hurt her, until he knew how much she could handle. 

It was easier said than done, however. Snow began to put on the pressure, adding more to just her katana strikes with her innate icy abilities. When she started flinging ice crystals at him, however, he noticed something:

She hasn’t changed weapons, or drew her guns.

“This isn’t your usual style. Where are your guns, or your other weapons, for that matter?”

With a flourish of her own, she sheathed the katana and eased into another readied stance, and responded: “Because I’m not here to go all out on you with everything I’ve got. Dad said, if anyone should have taught me how to use this sword, it should have been you. So I want to fight only with this.”

An admirable test she would put herself against, then. Two things flared in his heart. One was a feeling of approval towards this niece of his. The other feeling was an echo of what Dante had asked him: _I’m sure you would have wanted to teach Nero how to use the Yamato, wouldn’t you? Could have taught them together._

Pretty soon, Vergil forgot about the stress and anxiety of how to approach this. Instead, he became more interested in every movement she made, and how she fought. He met her blow for blow, not to overpower her, but to test her. 

And in the end, though he did feel he broke a sweat, she exhausted herself enough. He knew she was formidable enough to be a devil hunter worth her salt, but against him, she still had a ways to go. 

He realized: He had never seen her trigger. 

She had a tail that gave away her demonic heritage, which was an interesting development considering Dante didn’t have a tail. But her tail, when fully released from its hidden state, had thick umber skin that was similar to Dante’s trigger. The underside and patterns of her tail glowed a golden yellow. 

The absence of ever seeing her trigger, however…

Perhaps she wasn’t capable?

But Nero could…

“I think this will do, for now.” He called for a halt in their spar, and sheathed Yamato with a snappy click. 

Snow seemed to consider this end for a moment, panting somewhat, and she didn’t seem happy about it. The stubborn streak in their shared blood called for her to continue. But sensibility won out. Still, she pouted briefly: “I can’t help but feel like I’m not up to standards.”

The feeling of inferiority was a familiar thing. But having known how it had once torn him apart, his brain scrambled to find something comforting to say: “Dante said you’ve only turned 21 recently. You are still young. Where strength is concerned, you will grow into it. You haven’t reached a full trigger yet, have you?” 

She sighed as she straightened up to go towards the car, dismissing her sword into a hairpin again. As she fastened it into her hair, she said: “I don’t know if I ever will. And from what I’ve heard, a transformation like that… is triggered through trauma. And Dad would rather I never have that power if it means I don’t have to get hurt.”

Though he followed her towards the car, he paused when she said that. 

Was that a requirement? Trauma?

There was a saying, “no pain no gain.” But thinking back on the things that happened to him, and the things he did to Dante to force him to trigger…

Was that power really worth it?

And his next thought escaped his lips without his thinking: “Nero’s power…”

Snow leaned into the convertible to grab a bottle of water. When she heard that as she came back up, she looked up at him and smiled bitterly: “He said he was desperate. He was afraid of losing any more family. Did you know that he was fostered by Kyrie’s family for a while? I don’t know if he ever told you. Told V. But Kyrie’s parents died when they were young. And when dad found him, they also lost Credo. Kyrie’s older brother. Nero’s mentor and older brother figure, as well. So maybe hard trauma isn’t what’s needed. But the circumstances so far…”

“Strong emotions can hasten many things. This does not have to mean it to be the only route to potential.” Vergil immediately corrected. And then, with a whisper: “Perhaps, if Sparda had not left us so soon, we would have better answers to the potential of our abilities.”

To that, Snow could only continue a bitter smile as she dug up a second water bottle, and handed it towards him. It was a very human gesture, though he supposed she was more human than devil. Still, now that he saw the water, he realized that the words Snow had echoed from Dante were right. 

That though they could survive on less, an empty stomach (and a parched throat) was uncomfortable to endure. 

So he received the water, and drank it. 

It was refreshing. 

Just as all of this was… refreshing in its own way. 

Another measure of silence. Another gentle breeze. It was still mid morning, and the air was comfortable and crisp. 

When was the last time he was able to linger and enjoy his surroundings?

He leaned against the car. Snow sat against the convertible’s door. 

After a little while, she then broke the silence: “Do you like sweets, Uncle Vergil? I’m craving a peach cobbler with ice cream right now. There’s this nice little café that Patty and I like to go to, and they’re also reopened now, too. How does that sound?”

* * *

He did not object to spending a little more time with his niece. He had some other questions he wanted to ask her. As he perused the menu, he started with: “Dante said that you are very close with Nero.”

She hummed with a lilting note in confirmation. “I am. He’s great. Hanging out with him is different from hanging out with my little brothers. Against Tony and Caesar, if we ever want to play-fight, it’s always two on one. It’s not fair!” She pouted. “But with Nero, it’s a little more even, all things considered. But Nero always seemed to have more raw strength than me. I kind of get tossed around by him when we spar.”

He could imagine. With the way Nero used his arm(s) that he developed from his demonic heritage, Snow probably stood no chance wrestling him. But he wouldn’t be able to properly evaluate the difference in their skills unless he witnessed them fight, so he didn’t say anything on it for now. 

She ordered her peach cobbler with french vanilla ice cream. 

He looked down the menu, and chose something that stood out as familiar for him. 

“Tiramisu?” She seemed pleased, somehow. “That’s interesting. That’s Nero’s favorite dessert.”

Understanding what she was implying, he thought to bring up: “I don’t really have a favorite, in the years I spent on the run. But this was his mother’s favorite…” He saw how she looked interested and solemn at the same time, settling into her seat, and he then added as an afterthought: “Though I suppose, in that respect, then it is my favorite, too.”

Somehow, this made Snow smile. “He was worried, you know.”

Vergil didn’t really have a verbal follow up to that. As they waited for their orders to arrive, Snow simply continued on: “You two really didn’t start off on the right foot. But I suppose, he didn’t really start out great with my dad, either. Did dad tell you that when he first met Nero, Nero kicked him in the face, and eventually stabbed him through with the Rebellion? By the time dad was telling us this story, he was acting like it was all a joke to him. But Nero told me later that in the moment, he was pretty pissed at dad.”

“Dante is easy to find exasperating. Wanting to kick him in the face or stab him once in a while is natural.” He found it within himself to joke about it. 

Snow seemed to look sheepish. “Is it? I thought Nero was just too easy to rile up. He’s mellowed out a bit since we first met him, though.”

There was an unspoken “I guess he’s just like you” in her words. 

“You said Nero was worried.” He asked carefully. “Why?”

“He’s worried that after you come back, things won’t actually get better. You did hurt him, and on some levels you lied to all of us. But he’s conflicted. It’s not everyday that a parent whom you thought was dead comes back to life, you know.”

He could understand. In regards to Sparda, even Vergil had mixed feelings about him now. 

Maybe it wasn’t that he needed to become stronger than his father. 

Maybe the difference should have been: he should have been there. 

They should have each been there for their family members. 

“I don’t know how I’ll interact with him, when I next see him. My last message was that I won’t lose next time.”

He expected her to react with disappointment, to tell him that he could have said something better. 

Instead, she said: “Well, that sounds about right. I say that to one of my other cousins and Uncle Roy all the time.”

Based on context, this would have to be her family on her mother’s side. He wasn’t exactly sure who was who; Dante had mentioned Roy and Evan a few times, but Vergil didn’t quite put the information to heart. The only thing he bothered to remember was that Kassandra had two older brothers, and a total of seven nieces and nephews. 

Which, in turn, made them Dante’s nieces and nephews, also. And extended family to Vergil and Nero. 

Funny. The family suddenly felt so big, and he hadn’t met a single one of them save for Dante’s wife and kids. 

“You kind of left abruptly while everyone was still worked up, but you can still open up your meeting with Nero with a spar, you know. Just need to approach it a little differently. He likes to fight. Most of us do. Nothing wrong with getting to know him through crossing swords again.”

It was encouraging. And as their orders were brought in, Vergil told her: “Thank you. I will take your advice. It is… invaluable.”

She grinned as she dug her utensil into her cobbler. “No need to be so formal about it, or flattering for that matter. I just want to see family happy. I love them, you know. I can’t imagine my life without mine. Mom’s cooking is the best, I don’t even _like_ to eat at a lot of the fancy restaurants because of her. And I can’t imagine my life without dad.”

Vergil honestly couldn’t see how he was flattering her in the slightest, though he supposed this was just how she was. Like Kassy, Snow seemed to play heavily into the back and forth that was flattery versus respect. As he silently tasted the tiramisu, thinking for a moment on if this was how it tasted back then, Snow took a bite of her ice cream and continued:

“And having two younger brothers can suck sometimes, but when I’m feeling down, they would always be there to cheer me up. The twins never really needed me to do anything like stick up for them in school or anything, so sometimes I felt like I wasn’t much of a big sister. But I guess what mattered most was that we had each other’s company. Three’s a crowd, after all. And mom would tell us lots of stories, and read to us… when we were younger, we sometimes crammed ourselves onto mom and dad’s bed begging for a story. None of us slept through the night, really. So while the neighborhood was quiet, and dad wasn’t out dealing with demons…”

She trailed off so that she could take another bite of her cobbler. 

Vergil could distinctly remember that he and Dante did the same, when they were children. Those were the days, when they would read through things like Shakespeare, and Eva would laugh when Sparda would reenact certain things, often with dramatics that were laughable. He wondered now if their father had done that on purpose, to get their mother to laugh. It also got a lot of hysterics out of Dante, and it clearly influenced Dante’s dramatic personality. 

Vergil wasn’t really all that into the theatrics. Not in the same way. But with that memory came the memory of the times when, after Dante had tired himself out and dozed off first, Sparda would pick out something more to Vergil’s tastes, and read to him the intriguing mystery stories, or things that might amount to ghost stories. Sometimes, they even read poetry together with Eva. 

Having realized that she had gone off topic, and Vergil was somewhat elsewhere, Snow pulled them back to her original train of thought: “I know Nero won’t really be able to experience all things I got to experience, me having a complete family and not living on an island with a cult. Definitely can’t expect for you to do things like taking him to arcades and stuff. But I think he would still like to get to know you. Most of us do.”

“And the ones that don’t?”

“They will come around. Tony keeps talking about ambushing you around the corner and seeing if he could get you to fight him like dad does. Caesar keeps acting like he thinks it’s a bad idea but once Tony starts, then he’s right behind him. Just don’t draw any swords against them, or the next thing you know Tony will immediately break out his axe and Caesar will bring out his scythe… and then we’ll all have mom and dad yelling about weapons in the house.”

Vergil couldn’t help but feeling like 19 is a bit old for such childish behaviour, but then again, at about that same age, he and Dante were fighting until they were each bloody. So maybe this should have been the typical behaviour between siblings, instead of what he and Dante had. 

But now that Snow was talking a lot about them, Vergil felt compelled to ask: “Your brothers, Tony is the older of the two?”

“Yep. And he’s a brat! Okay, they’re both brats, but Tony is a brat and a punk sometimes. Caesar always has his back though, so I guess him seeming more quiet is just him watching out for Tony. They can get mean when they gang up on someone.”

Interesting. So they seemed to get along. 

The more he listened, the more he knew his once-adamant belief that those of Sparda’s blood were destined to fight each other was childish and dumb. That he would think that way of Nero, regardless if he had known the boy was his son or not, was truly a cursed thought against his own family. 

He was more than halfway through his tiramisu now, and Snow had somehow managed to finish her cobbler and asked to order something else. 

A strawberry sundae, this time. 

And he couldn’t help but comment: “So it’s hereditary, it seems.”

And she laughed. “What? Ice cream’s amazing. When I was a kid, I tried to challenge dad to a strawberry sundae eating contest.”

How very _them._ But this conversation so far has felt so normal, so nice. He was beginning to feel more at ease, and found the words to ask: “And who won?”

“Dad did, of course. And I had a stomach ache for the rest of the day. Mom rarely gets mad at him but that was one of those days.” 

He thought about Nero. Thought about Nero’s mother, as well. Would he have done something as foolish with Nero, had he stayed to be family with them? 

Perhaps not over food, but over something else they had in common. 

Nero didn’t seem to care much about reading or poetry. In fact, most of him reminded Vergil so much of Dante, that he couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. But he supposed it was to be expected. He wasn’t entirely sure how genetics worked, but he understood just enough to know that identical twins share a lot more than just appearances. He had asked himself before, that if their positions were switched, if they would have each other’s lives. 

But the question was more deep than that. Would their personalities be more entwined with the traits of each other, had they experienced “the other side of the story?” Or, on an even more forlorn idea: if they had stayed together, would they be more like each other, as opposed to being so divergent?

Still, regardless of what could have been, Vergil realized that maybe there was more to Nero than the brief few days he had gotten to know him as V. The child had been under stress and duress, having lost an arm and pulled into battle, then cast aside only to be tasked with the weight of saving the world. 

(He knew why Dante had said what he said. Even as V, he understood quite clearly the panic that was actually in his younger brother’s demeanor. A plea to get Nero away. The fear that he would get hurt even more, or worst yet, lose his life.)

“Would you be able to tell me a little more about Nero, also?”

It was as if she was waiting for him to ask. 

“He sucked at using the Yamato.” She said with a grin. 

And he couldn’t help but respond with a blink. 

“Don’t get me wrong, he fights really well. And he can cut down demons left and right with the Yamato. But no one ever taught him how to use a katana with _elegance_. Despite that, Yamato liked him. I’ve tried to handle her once, and she didn’t really like that. Even though _I_ knew what proper _kata_ is. I did show him some stuff, though. Dad was iffy about trying to teach Nero himself, but I think it had a lot more to do with the whole thing reminding him of you.”

This reminded him of something. “Who taught you how to wield your blade, Snow? I believe we can all agree that my brother is in no way a master of the Katana, either. He is proficient at best.”

“Well, dad did teach me the basics at first. Uncle Roy taught me the rest, but even then I’m not sure how well that holds up. His main combat style is the sword and shield or the polearm. I ended up going abroad to Japan for a while for, uh, _historical studies_. I think I do pretty well with it, but…”

“I was mostly self-taught, also. From a book. But you fight well, and your stance is solid. I admire that you respect the style so much, but I have seen you fight. You are, in many respects, just like your father. Variety suits you.”

This clearly pleased her. More than that, he could see that he fanned the flame to her ego somewhat, and he wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have done that. 

But she then settled into a very knowing smile, and the princess facade came on. “Thank you. Then let me also ask you something. Are you feeling more confident about speaking with Nero, now?”

And he should have known that in some parts, Snow was being cohorts with Dante, trying to urge him to meet with Nero sooner rather than later.

“I wouldn't know.” He answered unhelpfully. 

“I think you’ll do fine. We’ve been having a pretty good conversation thus far, haven’t we? And crossing blades with you didn’t yield anything catastrophic. Of course, Nero is a bit more easy to rile up than me. But I’m sure he’ll give you patience, so long as you give him the chance to get to know you.”

“And about his arm…?”

“That’s something you’ll have to sort out with him. He’s complained about it a few times, but he’s rationalized that event as a result of your desperation. If you do want my advice on how to interact with him, however, make sure to get on Kyrie’s good side, first.” Then, after a thoughtful moment, her demeanor slipped into a trickster’s smile. “While you’re at it, you should ask them when they’re going to get married. Been teasing him about that for a few years. Maybe he’ll stop dawdling if you asked.”

He’s certain that wouldn’t actually garner an entirely positive reaction. And internally, he didn’t think he was going to ask Nero that any time soon. For Vergil, he’s only just recently discovered he has a son. He wasn’t ready to think about the fact that Nero was old enough to marry and perhaps have a family of his own. 

(He will later come to learn that time waited for no one, and it was already “too late,” so to speak. The orphans that Nero and Kyrie took care of were pretty much family to them already.)

* * *

Snow only stayed for dinner, since Vergil had her old bedroom. He had awkwardly tried to tell her that he could take the couch instead, but she could be every bit as stubborn as the rest of their family, and insisted she was going to be taking a late night motorcycle road trip back to Fortuna instead. No doubt, she wanted to talk to Nero about everything she’s learnt today. 

So, after much internal debate, he offered the suggestion that he could at least cut her journey short by sending her back to Fortuna with a portal. After all, he had been there before, and could still feel the distinct “waypoint” of the island. 

And later that night, he and Dante had the front of the office to themselves again. This time, Dante didn’t have alcohol for him. 

Instead, he had two mugs of hot cocoa. 

“So, guess you still have your sweet tooth, huh.” He grinned as he handed him a steaming hot mug. 

“You say that as if you haven’t been feeding yours for years. And I see that it’s hereditary, where your daughter is concerned.”

“How about where the whole family is concerned? I blame dad for it. Do you remember how much he loved sweet things? The twins go through so much candy that they’re lucky they don’t get cavities. And your kid is a fiend for desserts, though I think that’s partly due to Kyrie’s kitchen skills. He’s absolutely smitten with her, you know.” He took a sip of his cocoa, and then sighed. “Man, that’s so weird. Back then, ‘the twins’ used to refer to us.”

Vergil had to agree, but he didn’t say so. For him, time had gone both so agonizingly slow, but also entirely painful and otherwise uneventful. Cut away the nightmares and the pain, and the last proper happy memory he had…

Was when he had been with Nero’s mother. 

“Do you know anything about Nero’s arm, and how he came to have it? Your daughter has a tail. But I don’t see any visible devil traits on your sons.”

“That’s because theirs are mostly on their backs and down their spine. Tony’s got some mean retractable spikes going on, and Caesar has retractable wings, though he can’t fly with them. More like glide. As for Nero’s arm, from what he’s told me, he didn’t grow into it. He got hurt and it transformed when he was twelve, and it got stuck like that. If I had to bet, though, he would have eventually grown those scales and stuff even if that attack didn’t happen. Snow got her tail at around twelve. Few years later the boys started growing in their back scales. Guess by the time you’re less than half-devil, their development just works a bit differently. Which makes no sense, if you ask me. You’d think the less devil blood you have, the more human you’d be.”

It was a very interesting thought. Something that might bear some light research later. Perhaps he could ask Kassandra about that, since she was from a family of part-devils. Something else was on his mind, however. 

“You said Nero was attacked when he was twelve.”

“That’s a story you’re going to have to get from him. He probably won’t like talking about it. That’s when he lost his foster parents, after all. And drink your cocoa before it gets cold. You’ve been staring at it for a while now.”

“You forgot the whipped cream.” Was his response. Dante rolled his eyes. But Vergil then smiled and drank it anyway. 

“Your daughter is... she has very interesting character.”

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to insult me somehow?”

“None intended. I’m simply surprised that she can be so mannerful and perceptive, though there is no doubt that she also has your wild and wanton style.”

“Hey now, my Snowflake is one of a kind. But you are right about one thing. She turned out pretty amazing, while I had no idea how I was going to raise her. But Kassy was there for me, every step of the way…” 

“I would concur that I would have taken you to be a disaster parent, but it seems my impressions of our capabilities may have been… reversed. Now it is I who is lost on the matter of parenting.”

“I’m not going to say anything to that last bit. But I will say, if I had tried to handle it alone, I probably would have been a disaster parent. Kassy helped me through every tough decision when it came to parenting. It’s a lot more than just making sure there’s food in the pantry and getting the bills paid. Spending time with them wasn’t really that easy, either. You know how mom always got on our case for fighting until we’re bloody? Never thought I’d be in her shoes, trying to break up fights between three kids.”

“But you managed.”

“Yeah. Sending them to school was a nightmare though. Had a few rocky years in the beginning until they learnt to simmer down among all the normal kids. But then eventually the punk phase started and Tony and Caesar both were a nightmare for a while. You think we would have been like that, if dad stuck around? Start rebellion against mom and dad both?”

“Dante. We were homeschooled.”

“That’s not the point, Verge.” But Dante laughed. “Snow remained relatively low-profile, though. She had some issues regarding her hair at first, and at one point I had gotten a call from the Principal about her threatening to curse kids by claiming she was an ‘ice witch.’ I probably shouldn’t have been laughing, but better than her getting into fights. She actually scared quite a few kids. Swears up and down that she didn’t use any of her abilities when I took her home. Gonna have to just take her word for that.”

“How quaint, considering you have lied before to get out of trouble, especially on occasions where you had tried to pin a problem on me.”

“Hey! It’s called trust! Besides, they were just kids getting scared of the idea that maybe they really did fuck up. Did have one time during her first year of middle school where the school tried to set up a parent teacher conference with me about her bleaching her hair. It was ridiculous. When I walked in, one of the teachers glared at me and gave me this dry speech on how ‘bleaching my hair with my kid was not proper conduct for a parent.’”

Vergil didn’t have the heart to interrupt Dante’s sudden foray into telling stories about his family. He just allowed his little brother to continue. Now it was Dante who was forgetting to drink his cocoa. 

“Man it was laughable. Told them it was natural. A few of the teachers were already looking like they wanted to call this meeting off. The staff decided to interrogate me about the fact that Snow had argued both me and her brothers were the same way, and that the hair was natural.”

“Surely it was none of their business on what colour hair someone has, so long as it was their choice if they dyed it?”

“Unfortunately, society doesn’t always work that way, bro. So I dug out all of my photos from my wallet. Had a few years worth to show them. Most of the board took a look through them and decided that was good enough, but this _one_ teacher really had a beef with Snow’s hair colour. Don’t know what her problem is, but she tried to accuse me of forcing my style choices on my family, blah blah blah…”

“And what of Snow? The unfair accusations must have been… upsetting.”

“It was. She… she actually likes how she looks. Kassy praising her for it probably aided towards that. But Snowflake seemed to like how she shared that trait with me.”

Vergil could recall when he and Dante were young, and there was a certain amount of admiration they had for their father, too. “She clearly looks up to you.”

“Isn’t that just amazing? I really didn't think I’m worth looking up to, you know.”

 _But you are._ Vergil thought. _You should be proud._ “How did you eventually solve the problem with the school board?”

“Well, lucky me. The principal knew Morrison. So in turn, she knew of me. Not personally, but seems my name had come up a few times. She ushered in the final majority agreement that there wasn’t an issue to discuss anymore. And after that I took Snow to the local arcade and spent the rest of the day winning all the claw machine prizes and mini game prizes she could ever want, and then watched her kick ass on all the Guitar Hero and music games they had. Not something I like to do often. Clear out chucks of the prize shop, that is. Been banned from an arcade before when I was a teen.” He snickered.

It was very sweet. Could he have been like that, for Nero? Seeing Nero now, there was no doubt that he would have been a trouble maker during school, as well.

“It sounds like to me that you did fairly well, then. And you’re trying to tell me that you didn’t think you could be a parent.”

“Hey, I hate to admit it, but Snow was kind of an accident. So I was pretty panicked about it.”

“But you seemed quite taken to the family way quite well, considering you have not one daughter but also two sons that followed.”

There was a momentarily bittersweet expression on Dante’s face, as he stared through the steam that wafted from his mug. “I didn’t want her to be an only child. I also wanted to do right by her what dad couldn’t do for us… family to be there for her. We just got more than what we bargained for, is all. I was scared, you know…”

“That they would turn out like us?”

“Yeah.”

Vergil closed his eyes and thought about it. “I haven’t quite been able to interact with them yet, but Snow described them as what proper brothers should be like. I think you did well.”

Dante sucked in a breath. “I don’t know if I can take that credit. A lot of it was Kassy’s doing, honestly. She’s so good with kids. She was raised in a family that usually keeps a full house of at least five kids any given generation. If I could have afforded it, she no doubt wouldn’t have settled with just three.”

Vergil couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Dante handling more than the kids he had now. “I’m surprised you managed to handle one, let alone three. But now I have another question. Why the name Snow? Did she develop her affinity to ice because of the name, or did she already exhibit those traits early on?”

“Oh, that? Coincidence, I guess. We didn’t expect her abilities to go that way. Kassy chose the name, actually. The moment she laid eyes on her, she asked me if we could name her Snow. And who was I to deny her? It was a simple name, but it was perfect. Thankfully, her little snow flurries and frosting over her drink cup were about the only trouble we got from her abilities coming in. Otherwise, her personality is so warm that I almost thought we should have named her Summer or something.”

“That would have been a fine irony.” The cocoa mug was empty now, so Vergil set it down on the coffee table. “And what about the twins? If I’m not mistaken, Tony was your alias back when you were a mercenary for hire, wasn’t it?”

“Yep. Probably don’t need to explain why I went with that, do I? I like the name.”

“It’s oddly poetic of you. Your life as Tony wasn’t easy, after all.”

He let Dante take a moment to answer the rest of the question. After all, this was the first time Vergil has said anything remotely close to the words of “I understand you went through a lot, too.”

“...I picked Caesar because I was thinking of you.”

Vergil tried to decipher the meaning of this decision, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he was on the same wavelength with Dante in this regard.

so Dante supplied: “Julius Caesar. The Shakespeare tragedy? And the historical stuff, but who cares about that.”

And then, it clicked. 

“Ah.” He uttered. And then he followed with: “Mark Antony, I see. A little morbid, don’t you think?”

“Don’t read too much into it. It wasn’t a message to them or anything. At the time, I was thinking a lot about you. And about what really happened that split us apart. A part of me really wanted to go after Mundus, but at the time I still didn’t know exactly who was the devil that was behind the attack. I just want you to know, Verge… that I didn’t sit by idly playing house or anything. Everything that happened in our lives didn’t just get thrown to the back of my head. I knew vaguely that you wanted the power for revenge just as much as you wanted protection. But I don’t know if I really avenged anything, in the end...”

Nelo Angelo…

“You couldn’t have known, Dante.”

“All the _signs_ were there, Vergil.”

“There was little you could have done. Killing me was a mercy. The armor…”

“Don’t. Just… don’t. That’s in the past now.”

They fell into silence. 

Had he upset Dante?

“It’s just good to have you back, bro.” Dante finally muttered. 

And again, Vergil found himself agreeing with Dante. But again, he didn’t say it. Instead, he said: “Your cocoa’s cold, Dante.”

“Fuck.”

How strange. 

Life felt warm again.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Tony and Caesar are definitely echoing a few references to the DmC reboot game. Namely the two other weapons Reboot Dante uses aside from Rebellion.  
> \- The choice of spikes for Tony and wings for Caesar are, uh, actually a nod to my main class in World of Warcraft. I play a Demon Hunter, haha.  
> \- At one point, in one of my prompt-snippets, I had decided that if Vergil were to ever choose a new fake name (because Gilver is kinda terrible imo and honestly there’s a lot of bad memories with that name) it would be Caesar.  
> \- I was careful to avoid names of OCs that didn’t matter to this story, but it was a bit hard here and there. Kassy’s side of the family is kinda big. This further adds to why Snow believes in the power of having everyone united in the family.


End file.
